The Adventures of Ser Kegan Page
by WinLik3aBosS
Summary: Kegan, a young man who is nothing more than a measly peasant, goes on an adventure to seek out fame and of course, money!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is my first Mount and Blade story, and i want to know what you think about it! I know i've completely left my other stories hanging, and im just lacking motivation right now but legit i will attend to them at some point i promise! Anyway, please comment and tell me what you think so far! **

**Chapter 1: Out of the Frying pan and into the Fire**

The forest was in full bloom now that it was the middle of summer. Flowers blossoming on the ground, grass growing in tufts surrounding the nearby trees that grew ever so tall. The sun barely shown through the dense leaves of the maple trees. Small animals such as squirrels and chipmunks happily scurried around, searching for nuts and other food sources. All was peaceful and quiet.

That is, until a young man came running through the majestic landscape, sending the animals dashing for cover, whether it be up a tree or in a hole. With every step the young man made, the leaves and plants gave his position away as they crunched beneath his shoes and brushed against his leg.

This however, didn't bother him, for he was too concerned over the current situation at hand. Not far behind him, a group of young men (around the same age as him) were following him in full pursuit.

Kegan brushed the green maple leaves out of his short blonde hair, as he leaped over a small boulder. He quickly regained his balance after landing, and continued to sprint. Clutching to the holt of his dagger, Kegan tripped over a small log. Immediately he picked himself up and continued to run at top speed, even though his lungs screamed for oxygen. He had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere where he could lay low for at least an hour! As he continued sprinting, he looked ahead of him and noticed a small opening in the tree line.

Sensing that this opening could lead to a safe haven, he picked up speed. His breathing becoming ever shorter, Kegan began to slow down. After brushing a few branches aside, he brought his arms up to his face, to protect his eyes from the blinding light.

In front of him, lay a large steamy waterfall, surrounded by a rocky ledge covered in dirt and weeds. Far below, was a small lake, fairly deep. While the setting was quite breathtaking, Kegan didn't have time for sightseeing. Without hesitation, he dove off the forest cliff into the open air. His body, plummeting towards the water below. The other men ran to the edge of the cliff and quickly backed off a few feet after realizing that they could've fallen off. The strongest one of the bunch stepped forward and looked down into the water, looking for any signs of Kegan. After a few minutes of searching, he snarled in disappointment and spat down into the water.

"C'mon boys. That kid ain't worth our time." He scoffed. He then turned around and led the other men back into the forest.

Far below, Kegan's body had washed ashore in a small cave underneath the cliff (which by all means was still fairly visible). A cut across his forehead was bleeding all over his face, giving him the look of a dead man. The water slowly lapped at his crippled form, as he regained consciousness. His vision was blurred and he could barely make out his own hand coming to rest on his forehead. Kegan gently touched the cut on his forehead and recoiled instantly. The slightest touch sent a wave of pain through his nervous system.

Kegan then began to inch his way towards the lake. At least he would be able to wash out the cut and prevent it from being infected. As he washed his forehead as gently as he could, his vision came back, and he could then make out his surroundings.

After he felt that he did all that he could to help his wound to heal, Kegan leaned against the wall of the cave and sat there, recollecting his thoughts (and his breath).

"All I took was one loaf of bread…" he said aloud, "I didn't think they would kill me for it… I mean, sure I would be fined, but since when…" *cough, cough* …"when did they kill people for such a minor crime?" Kegan indeed question this in his head. For a few months now, after his mother had died, he was left alone on the streets as nothing more than a peasant. He walked around in the mud for only a week before he ran out of money and food, so he was left with only one other option. Steal. And so he had. The wet loaf of bread in the pocket of his tunic was proof enough of this statement, and as he pulled it out, he tossed it away in disgust.

"I'm so sick of this life!" Kegan said, almost yelling but not so loud, for fear that the others would return. "My father was once a lord for the Swadian army… and now look at me… his only son…" This sentence also brought back memories to Kegan. Back to the day when his mother returned to the house with weary eyes, red with tears. She merely brushed past him and cried in her room for weeks. Only afterwards did she mention to him why his father wasn't returning. Apparently he had been shot off his horse by a Nordic archer, who in turn, received a horrible fate.

Kegan's mind returned to the present, where he was still laying against the rock. Sighing, he placed one hand on the ground and stood up. Shakily, he stood erect, and wiped the dirt from his shoes and tunic. "Today, I am going to start a new life… even if it kills me!" Kegan vowed.

After a long trek through the woods, Kegan concluded that he was tired, and decided to rest next to a tree. He closed his eyes, and dreamt of what lied before him in the troubled land of Calradia. Truthfully, a vast part of his mind told him that he _was_ going to die. It wasn't like many peasants hadn't tried this before! If it was easy, all the serfs, artisans, and merchants would rise up and fight for conquest. While Kegan pondered the thought for a few minutes when he heard voices. Hidden behind his tree, he decided to peek past to see what all the commotion was about.

Not too far along the road lay a caravan. Armed cavalrymen escorted wagons, each filled with the usual: Spices, food, iron, armor, clothing, gold, and weapons. Apparently, the Caravan Master was having an intense argument with one of the caravan guards over a lack of discipline in the men. Kegan chuckled, it was quite usual to hear a leader of an armed force get angry over discipline. Lords, however, usually sent someone else to do their dirty work. Someone like Kegan…

Kegan turned back around the tree and closed his eyes, once again. He breathed in the fresh air, taking in the smells of summer. A small wind blew through the grass and trees, sending stray leaves all over the place. The sun, still as bright as before, warmed up his damp clothes.

Without warning, Kegan heard a noise no man could mistake. It was a sound like wind being pierced by a knife, it was…an arrow. Instantaneously, the caravan guard that the master was speaking with was filled with a barrage of iron arrows. Kegan quickly spun around again, peeking around his tree. The guard was hit so hard with the barrage, that his body was sent flying off his horse. The carcass landed on the dusty road with a thud, and sent all of the others into confusion as to where the attack had come from. The caravan master's horse reared on its hind legs, and he came tumbling off into the gravel. The men stationed on the wagons readied their crossbows to defend themselves and their cargo, but they too were soon shot down.

In only a matter of minutes, the entire caravan was fighting for their lives, whether it be in close combat or at far range. Kegan could clearly see that the bandits would overpower the caravan in a matter of minutes, and his first thought was to escape to safety.

He pushed away from the tree and scrambled down the grassy knoll and began to stand up to sprint when a thought entered his mind. This caravan had gold and valuables, obviously, but it also had armor and weapons. This was his chance! Kegan slowly scaled back up the knoll and saw that the bandits and caravan were still in heavy combat, unaware of his presence. He quickly scanned his eyes over the many carts, trying to spot the one carrying weapons and armor. As he continued to pan down the line of carts, his eyes settled on the one in the very middle of the caravan.

"Perfect…" Kegan whispered to himself, but again he thought, "'If it was easy, all the serfs, artisans, and merchants would rise up and fight for conquest!'" He readied himself for the fastest run of his life. Kegan, now standing right next to the tree, was getting ready to use it as a boost to propel himself closer to the cart.

"On three," he thought, "One…Two…THREE!" Kegan's mind shouted.

His legs sprang into action, sending him off like a rocket towards his destination. All around him, men (and even some women) were fighting off the offending bandits. This, however, did not faze Kegan as he continued to run just as fast as he had when he was running from those townsmen. He was now halfway there, his heart pounding, and his legs burning.

Kegan was running so fast that he didn't notice the body of a bandit lying between his feet and their destination, and of course, he tripped over it. Kegan was sent flying into the air, and landed face first into the gravel. The sudden impact opened up his newly healed wound on his forehead, and he began bleeding again. But before Kegan could even stand up, he heard a bloodcurdling scream.

A rather large bandit wielding an axe came running towards him, swinging it madly. Kegan briefly had time to process this in his head, and he scrambled to get on his feet. The bandit brought up his arms, and prepared to swing down on Kegan's back with full force. Kegan, looked back over his shoulder, and quickly maneuvered to the left, and under a nearby cart. The axe came down into the gravel, and sent dirt and small rocks flying into Kegan's eyes.

Kegan yelled and rubbed his eyes clean of the dirt as quickly as he could, then, without hesitation, he began crawling towards the other end. From his spot under the wagon, he could see multiple bodies littering the road, mostly caravan guards. The battle was coming to an end, and Kegan had to grab the supplies before the bandits turned their attention to him.

Finally, he reached the second to last cart to his destination. He was so close!

"I can taste my new life already!" Kegan said overeagerly. Now crawling faster than before, he was beginning to notice the lack of swords clashing, and screams of anger. Instantaneously, Kegan's heart jumped to his throat. He froze, daring not to make a sound. Kegan could hear his own short breathing under the cart. He closed his eyes, and awaited his certain doom, praying for the mercy he was surely not going to be given...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Prisoner of War**

From his position under the cart, mere seconds had passed and he was still in imminent danger. Even though Kegan was never the religious type, he decided now was as good a time as ever, so he closed his eyes and put his hands together. Much to his dismay, an anonymous hand reached under the cart, and pulled his sickly body out into the afternoon sun once again.

"Well, well, well. Lookie here! Looks like you were trying to steal some of our loot eh?" A bearded man in padded leather armor spoke. He quickly swiped the knife from Kegan's belt. Kegan took a quick look at his surroundings. Four bandits were eying him suspiciously while others were hauling away goods and armor (also some bodies).

"Well boy?! I haven't got all day ya know!" The bearded bandit spoke once again. Kegan however, overpowered by fear, couldn't manage to get a word out. He sat there, on the dirty road, with his mouth open like a fish gasping for water. The bandit waited expectantly for a minute then grunted,

"Whatever, I'll just kill him anyway. Bad if he got away you know what I'm sayin?" He stated to the other bandit on his left. "Sorry kid!" The bandit raised his axe, preparing for a deadly swing, when suddenly an older bandit with greying hair pushed him aside.

"Move it you moron! We can get good coin out of him! We'll sell him to the ransom brokers at Praven! Now put that damn axe down and put him with the others!" He barked. The bandit sighed and grabbed Kegan by his collar. Pulling Kegan along, Kegan got a good look at the aftermath of the battle.

Bodies (mostly the caravan guards) littered the floor, with small pools of blood surrounding their carcasses. As he continued walking by, he got a good look at the caravan master. A javelin was protruding from his chest, and his horse had wandered off after the battle ended.

"C'mon you!" The bandit pulled him along. Eventually, he and his captor reached the other prisoners: Two caravan guards, a sellsword crossbowman, and a sellsword axeman. The axeman was tending to the wounds of the unconscious crossbowman, which was suffering from an arrow to the knee. The bandit turned Kegan around, and bound his arms with a thick, sturdy rope. After fastening it, he thrust his foot into the backside of Kegan's leg, sending him to the floor beside the axeman.

The bandit then walked away and began to help sort through the valuables in the carts with some other bandits. Kegan sat in his spot, quietly cursing his luck.

"Of course I got caught by these guys…I never should've left the village. I could've at least made a few coins by helping out on the farms…" Then, he thought of something else, "But if only I was fast enough I could've ran up to that cart and gotten that armor! I was so close! Goddammit I could've at least made my way around with some armor…"

"Hey you," Kegan snapped out of his trance and looked over to the person calling out his name. The axeman has gesturing him over. Kegan inched his way over to the man, and sat next to him.

"I need you to help me. My hands are bound, just as yours are, so I can't pull this arrow out the right way. I need you to push down his leg while I pull it out. Thank god it wasn't so deep, or else we would have to cut it out…" The axeman instructed him. Nodding, Kegan inched a little towards the injured crossbowman, and placed his hands on the leg with the arrow embedded in it.

"Thanks, now just hold him still…" The man said. Kegan did as he was told, and kept enough pressure on the leg to allow the man to pull the arrow out. Watching intently, Kegan kept his hands on the leg, while the axeman placed his hands on the arrow. Slowly and gently, he wiggled it around, no doubt trying to avoid getting the broadhead snagged on the surrounding tissue. After a few seconds of maneuvering, he managed to get the broadhead's points out of the flesh, and pulled the rest out.

While this surgical procedure occurred, Kegan was keeping pressure on the bleeding wound. Blood poured out of the wound as though it would never end. Kegan's hands were quickly covered in the man's blood, but after the arrow was pulled, the axeman quickly rapped some spare cloth tightly around the crossbowman's injured leg.

"Thanks, kid." The axeman said, now sitting on his haunches with the arrow in his lap. He turned his full attention to, and for the first time Kegan could make out his face. He was a middle aged man with jet black hair hiding under his leather helmet. A small scar stretched across his cheek, showing his experience in battle.

"Name's Edmund friend. Edmund Cartwright. And your name is…?"

"Kegan. Kegan Page." Kegan replied, awkwardly shaking Edmund's bound hands with his own.

"So, Kegan. What were you doing out here? Trying to steal from us where you?" Edmund immediately questioned. Taken aback, Kegan couldn't respond, only managing to make a few sounds come out of his mouth.

"Ah come on kid. I was kiddin'. It doesn't matter to me really; I was just hired to guard this damned caravan. Now that we've been sacked, I don't much really care if you were trying to steal it or not." Edmund reassured him. Kegan released a sigh of relief.

A bandit glanced over at Edmund and Kegan, and quickly rushed over. Before either of them could react, he kicked Kegan in the stomach and snatched the arrow from Edmunds hands after pushing him away.

"Trying to escape eh?" He snarled.

"What's that?" Another bandit walked over.

"Saw this one tryin' to cut through the ropes with this arrow here!" The bandit proclaimed. Edmund and Kegan managed to sit back on their haunches again, and watched as the bandit described what he saw to the others.

"Oh come off it you blithering idiot," Edmund spoke outward. Kegan looked at him, shocked. 'He's going to get himself killed!' he thought. "I pulled that arrow from this man's leg. It wouldn't be here in the first place if you people hadn't shot it." Edmund continued. The two bandits turned towards him, and the one who took the arrow stepped forwards.

"You listen to me you little shit. If you speak to me like that again, I'll make sure that arrow hits your head instead!" He spat into Edmunds eyes and walked away.

"Eugh, Hey do me a favor and wipe this off would ya?" Edmund said, with his eyes shut. Kegan moved over to him and rubbed the saliva off his eyes. "Thanks."

"Hey Edmund, you really should watch it, they will kill you if you do that again…" Kegan pointed out. Edmund shrugged.

"And what, you think a life as a slave would be better? They're going to sell us to those ransom brokers, and after that, they're going to send us to work. And I mean work till death kinda work." Edmund stated. Kegan processed this information through his head, and realized he was very worried. He had to escape now, if not, he would rather die than be a slave…

"So…" Kegan than began to speak in a hushed voice, "have you considered escaping?" Edmund scoffed.

"You really are new out here aren't you? You can't just escape as soon as they capture you. Kid, listen. You have to be patient, and wait for an opportunity. And if it's good enough, then you make your escape. Not just right off the bat."

"So you are considering escaping?" The two of them stopped talking for a minute as some bandits carrying a chest filled with spice walked by.

"I'm not sayin I am and I'm not sayin I ain't. All I'm sayin is that you got to wait for the perfect opportunity." Kegan sat back down and stared into space, not really thinking about anything for the moment. Edmund looked back at the crossbowman that was beginning to awaken. Just before he could ask the man if he could sit up, however, the elder bandit began screaming orders to his men,

"Alright you dogs, let's get going! I want to sell these goods by sundown, and Praven is a few hours from here! So let's get to it!" He barked from atop his (new) horse. The outlaws followed his orders and began to put all of the valuables that they wanted into a single cart. After it was full, two bandits mounted the horses and began to ride.

"Looks like we're moving…" Edmund said.

"Get up!" A bandit said brandishing his sword and threatening them to get up. While the others obeyed, the wounded crossbowman could not stand up on his own. "Get up! GET UP!" He screamed at him. He prepared to kick him when Edmund interrupted,

"Hold on! Just let us carry him…" Kegan followed him towards the wounded man, and helped Edmund get him on his feet. Leaning on one leg, the crossbowman thanked the other two and hobbled along, with Kegan and Edmund on each side of him. Surrounded by bandits, the prisoners marched down the dusty path. In the distance, the sun was now setting across the horizon, its golden rays just touching the mountaintops. The scene almost made Kegan want to sit down and watch the sun set, but the current situation he was in prevented him from doing so. Instead he kept his eyes on the road, and focused on nothing else but finding a way to escape.

The group walked onward, till, in the distance, the awe-inspiring image of Praven appeared. Great walls of stone surrounded the city, with bastions on each corner. Just down the road, a great door opened to let serfs and farmers in for the day, and merchants to do their business. Inside the curtain walls, lay the castle itself. Greatly adorned with the current lord's banners, it stood out as the most magnificent building Kegan had ever seen. Kegan had grown up in his village of Azgad, and had never gone anywhere else other than the market with his mother.

"Alright boys, set camp here. We'll sell the valuables tomorrow, but I want to get rid of those prisoners now, so I want Botulf and Tyrel to go through the gates and sell them to the ransom broker. He should be in the tavern, now get to it before I lose my patience!" He commanded. As soon as he spoke the names, a thin man in leather armor (equipped with a bow and arrow) and a rather large man wielding an axe and shield came forth. When their leader was finished delivering the orders, they walked over to the five prisoners, and started herding them towards Praven's gates like cattle.

After a few minutes, the others were out of earshot, and they were halfway to the gates. On their way to the main road, they had to scale some rocky slopes, and thick grasses that stood between them and their destination. Still carrying the crossbowman, Kegan took a glance at Edmund. He had a determined look in his eye, and that could only mean one thing…

He was thinking on how to escape.

It was perfect now that Kegan thought of it. All they needed to do was kill these two and cut their bindings! Then they could run to freedom! But how? Kegan decided to wait and find out what Edmund would do, and follow as he did.

About three quarters of the way there, one of the caravan guards asked to rest for a moment, to catch his breath after scaling another rocky slope. The bigger bandit, the one known as Botulf, grunted and waited by the edge impatiently while the caravan guard made his way up the slope. The other bandit, Tyrel, was watching in amusement as the guard kept tripping, finding it difficult to scale a slope with no hands.

This situation was all Edmund needed.

Without warning, he charged headfirst, like a bull, into Botulf. Edmund's charge caught Botulf off-guard, thus the impact sent him flying off the edge and into the rocky bottom below. The caravan guard that was having trouble before immediately jumped down upon Botulf and began kicking him as hard as he could.

"What the….! Hey!" Was all Tyrel managed to get out before seeing his companion being pushed off the cliff. As if on instinct, Tyrel pulled out an arrow from his quiver, and aimed it at the oncoming Edmund. Taking close aim, and paying full attention, Tyrel didn't even notice Kegan come up from behind him.

With all his might, Kegan pushed into Tyrel's skinny body, knocking him over. But even though he had managed to throw the offender down, his arrow had left his bow before Kegan had even laid a finger on him.

Edmund lay on the ground, on his back with an arrow sticking in his shoulder.

Overcome by anger, Kegan quickly turned his attention back to Tyrel, and put his cuffed hands underneath Tyrel's neck, while his arms flailed about wildly. With a furious cry, Kegan used his hands to twist Tyrel's neck with all his strength, sending a sickening cracking noise throughout the small plain.

Panting loudly, Kegan sat atop Tyrel's broken body, still in a trance. After he regained his breath, Kegan turned around and spotted Edmund on the ground. He quickly grabbed Tyrel's dagger which had fallen to the floor, and cut his binds. Kegan then ran over to Edmund, and cut his binds too. Edmund had already once again worked out the broadhead part of the arrow. Once his binds were cut, he then pulled the rest out and threw it aside.

"Praise to the nine that you are ok, friend!" Kegan said, resting his hands on his shoulders.

"You too, thanks for cutting these, my hands were beginning to get rashes…" Edmund replied. Not far below, the two caravan guards had beaten Botulf's damaged body to a pulp. Kegan picked up the bow and arrows, and the leather armor from Tyrel's body, and headed over to Edmund.

"Well, well. Look at you, already an adventurer, and a killer." Edmund stated watching Kegan put on the leather armor. "Still, the world is built on killers, so what the hell." The two caravan guards returned from the slope, and sat next to the crossbowman and engaged in conversation. After looting the two bandits of their weapons and gold, Kegan now had 204 deners, a bow and arrows, and some sturdy leather armor to protect him.

"Didn't I tell you the moment would come when we would be able to escape?" Edmund said to Kegan as he wrapped up his shoulder in what looked like a makeshift caste. Kegan nodded, now staring at the setting sun. All five prisoners now free men once again, rested in their little campsite till the sun was barely showing over the horizon. The two caravan guards had helped the crossbowman on his feet again and had set off, leaving Edmund and Kegan alone.

"Well, it looks like this is goodbye." Edmund said, shaking Kegan's hand. "I want you to know that without you we might all be slaves today. Here, I want you to have this." Slowly, he put a small pouch of gold coins into his hands. "Found this on the big one, thought you should have it."

"Thanks Edmund this means a lot to me." Kegan said. "Will I ever see you again?" He asked, hoping his friend wouldn't be gone forever.

"I don't know Kegan. I'm a mercenary; I go where the pay is the best. But if you ever need me, you might just find me in a tavern, soaking up with some nice wine huh? Haha, well. I'll see you around." They shook hands once more, and departed. Kegan continued towards Praven, wondering what bestowed him there, while Edmund set off down the other way, carrying his new sword in its sheath. Kegan passed through the gates, and stared in wonder at the magnificent city. Now midnight, Kegan made his way over to the local tavern where he could rest and get a good drink.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry guys, I know I haven't posted in a while, but I guess that's just how I am. I replaced the last chapter because I felt it was too early to introduce such a character and I felt there are better ways to introduce such people. I felt it was weak, but anyways, I'm taking a new route with this chapter, hopefully I will continue posting.**

**Chapter 3: Freedom and the Beginning of an Adventure**

Kegan walked into the tavern once again, a free man. No longer in the grasp of the dangerous bandits, he felt strong and, for once, that his life was better than it had been for the majority of his lifetime. Inside the tavern, lanterns casted a light orange brightness throughout the room. Small wooden tables were spread around the room, each with a few villagers eating or drinking. In the back of the room was where the tavern keeper stood, watching in content over his satisfied customers. Kegan walked over to the counter, and ordered a small glass of wine, losing 20 of his deners in the process.

"Thank you." He said as the tavern keeper handed him his nice fresh cup of wine. Kegan looked down into his wooden cup for a moment, staring into the red wine, and his mind went back to his escape with Edmund. He had killed that bandit, and he had done it easily. But without remorse or regret, without thinking twice about the fact that he had just ended a man's life. It disturbed him greatly, causing him to only stare at his drink, not taking a sip.

A few moments went by, and a few visitors of the tavern left, leaving only Kegan, the tavern keeper, and a few other townsmen. A few drunken men were playing around with a tavern wench in the corner of the room, laughing loudly as the girl flirted with them. Kegan turned his attention back to the cup, and decided that he might as well drown his memories with this cup of alcohol. He brought the wooden cup up to his lips, and took a long swig at the beautiful beverage.

Even though he had reached the safety of the town, he couldn't stay here. Not if he wanted to be living in the mud filled streets like a peasant. Oh sure, he was a peasant that he knew, but he was determined to become something more, someday. Even if he used his money to stay in the tavern, it would only last him a few nights at most (not to mention he had to buy food). If he wanted to gain riches and fame, he would definitely need to know how to fight. Sure he could swing a sword, who couldn't? But, like many peasants, he was not skilled, and a regular footman could kill him easily.

"If I want to get anywhere around here…I need to know how to fight." He said to himself out loud, whilst staring into his cup again. Unknown to him, a man was sitting next to him, and heard every word he had said.

"So you want to know how to swing a sword eh? Want to know how to crush your enemies, and defend yourself?" Kegan (whose senses were dulled because of the alcohol) turned wearily towards the man, and nodded. The man scoffed, and turned away from Kegan and back to his meal.

"You and the rest of those young men out there! HAH! You'll sooner get yourself killed. If I was you, I would get myself a good job, work in the mill or something. Don't go running around with a sword, expecting to get riches. Many a good lads have left the safety of these walls seeking riches and fame, and practically none of them came back. Damn idiots if you ask me." Kegan, who was still looking at him, admitted that his chances were slim, but he would take it over living in mud with a lord commanding your very life and controlling your existence.

"But if you're still interested in training yourself, there's a training area right outside the walls of this here town. Outside the southern gate, lies a small path. Continue down it and take a left, and you will arrive at Azgad. An old bastard by the name of Hernais trains young lads like you. Old man's probably around 80 years old now, but he knows how to swing a sword. It'll cost ye, but it's worth it."

Kegan nodded and noted the instructions down in his head. Kegan took another swig from his cup, and finished the last of the wine off. After a moment of silence (besides the drunken men in the back of the tavern), Kegan couldn't help but ask the man a question.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked him. The man, who had been chewing on a chicken leg, put the chicken down, wiped his mouth, and looked Kegan square in the face. For once, Kegan could make out the details of the man's appearance. He had a large scar running through his eye, and what looked like a disfigured arm.

"Because I was just like you. I know what it's like, to have nothing, to be nothing, but we have a place in life. God put us here for a reason, and you can't change that. When I was your age, I decided to adventure me 'self." He half-heartily laughed. "What a stupid bastard I was, back then. So oblivious to the outside dangers. You remind me of myself boy, and you can avoid this too," he said, gesturing towards his scar and damaged arm. Kegan frowned.

Unlike the many times back at the manor, where he was never given a choice to decide his fate, whether it be because of their commanding lord or because of his elders, this man was giving him a choice. Take the chance, to become a leader, sellsword, vigilante, or give up. Forget it. Live life. Why should he take the chance. It was slim if anything, and if he did, there was no getting out. If you gained renown, you gained a reputation, whether it was a good one or a bad one. Plus, if he became a sellsword, he would gain more enemies than friends, whereas if he just forgot about it, he would meet a nice girl, settle down, raise kids, etc.

But he would be ruled, given no say on how to live his life, commanded like the lowest foot soldier in an army.

"I'll take my chances." Kegan said sincerely. He had made his choice. The man frowned and turned back to his chicken.

"Suit yourself. It's your life." As soon as the conversation had started, it had ended. But not only had Kegan learned of a way to train himself, he had made a decision that would shape the future of his life permanently.

After Kegan finished his drink, he felt that he wasn't hungry, and walked upstairs to his room. It wasn't the best room the tavern had to offer, but it was enough. One solid bed, with a cupboard and a small wooden window. Kegan walked over to the bed, took off his leather boots, leather armor, and lay his weapons on the cupboard, and finally lay down on the bed.

Throughout the night, Kegan thought of the decision he made. Sure there was no reason he could switch back to the other choice, for there was nobody to bind him to his current devotion. However, he felt that what he had said to the man had ensured that there was no going back. This was his new life now, and he needed to make the best of it.

-THE NEXT DAY-

The sun didn't wake Kegan that morning. Nor did the roosters, or the cows, or even the rustling of the markets outside the tavern. Lightning shot through the sky like an arrow, while rain hammered the tavern's roof. Kegan woke with a start as lightning sounded throughout the small city. He sat up in his bed, sweating heavily after having a nightmare. After a few moments to catch his breath, he wiped the sweat off his forehead, and got out of bed.

Kegan put on his equipment, and grabbed his weapons. After suiting up, he left his room and walked back down the stairs to the lower level of the tavern. A few of the drunken men from the night before were still in their seats, drooling over the tables. Kegan moved past them to the entrance/exit of the building.

Opening the door, he could hear the rain hitting the small pools of water that had formed on the sides of the cobblestone street. A small ledge overhead gave him some cover from the rain as he looked both ways, for a sign to show him towards the southern gate. As he was looking, he spotted a man trying to wheel a cart through the storm.

Kegan approached the man, putting his arms up for protection from the rain. "Excuse me? Sir? Can you tell me where the southern gate is?" The man looked up from his cart, and stared at Kegan for a moment, before realizing that he had asked him a question.

"Wh-what? Oh! Oh yes its right down that road to the left! Now would you please move I'm in a hurry and I don't have time for silly…" The man's voice trailed off as he went into a ramble. Kegan swung around towards the street the man had mentioned, and started moving onward. He wanted to get to this, 'training ground' as soon as possible. He needed to know how much it would cost, because if it was expensive, which no doubt it was, he needed all the training he could get. And he needed it now.

With that in mind, he pressed onwards through the wind and rain and thunder and lightning. Through the rough cobblestone road, until he reached the gate and from there onward he pressed through the now muddy road. His boots became caked with mud, and his clothes and armor soaked. Nonetheless, he pressed onwards, determined to reach the training grounds.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok well here's another chapter! I got some good ideas for ahead and I can't wait to use them, I just hope I don't rush things. I will try my best! Well, here you go! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: The Journey**

Kegan continued his trek through the storm, soaking wet and covered in mud. The hood he had pulled over his head to protect him from the rain was now completely soaked, and was now completely useless. Raindrops hung from his eyebrows, and fell into his eyes, blurring his vision. Each step he took, felt like he was lifting weights. The mud sucked onto his shoes, as if trying to pry them from his feet. 'If I only had a horse, I would've been able to make it to Azgad much quicker!' he thought dreamily, his mind drifting away from the dreadful road. 'If only I waited another day in Praven! Then I could've gone tomorrow! Why oh why did I go today!' he questioned himself.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought about turning back. Praven was no longer in sight however, and he figured that he should be closer to Azgad. Dead trees and fields of long grass lined the road, and were beginning to flood because of the excessive rainwater. At one point, Kegan realized that his hands had begun shaking. If he continued onward like this for much longer, there was the possibility of getting sick, and that was the last thing he needed right now.

Over puddles and streams, through small dense forests, Kegan pressed onward. 'I have to make it! I'm probably almost there!' he convinced himself. With that motivational statement in mind, Kegan began to jog, with the last of his energy. After each footfall, the suction from the mud made it even harder to pull his foot from the substance. His energy was wearing thin when he noticed some dark shapes in the distance. As he neared them, he noticed that they were houses, huts, and sheds.

Azgad! He had made it after all! Although victory was just in sight, Kegan's running began to die down, and his breath became short and wheezy. The farther he walked in the thunderous afternoon, the slower he ran, as if there was some mystical wall preventing him from reaching his destination. With a last burst of energy, he picked up his pace towards the nearest building. Lungs burning and throat sore, he stumbled around in the storm, swinging his arms back and forth trying to gain his balance as he made his way to the nearest building.

*Inside the Gaveston household*

Alyson sat at the table with her family and her deep and closest friend, Rawkin's family. After Alyson's eldest sister and Rawkins only brother had gotten their parents blessing, they proposed a feast, to their happy future together. Alyson's family invited the Mandeville's over to their household, where they were hosting the feast. Chicken, pig, cow, wine, cheese, bread, grapes, you name it.

Alyson's mother, Yda had gone to Praven to buy the food, just for this occasion. Alyson's father, Rolph, worked as a blacksmith and earned good pay for her family. As the kingdoms fought over Calradia, they bought numerous amounts of armor and weaponry that her father had crafted. His wages had made it possible for her family to host such a feast.

Rawkin sat next to Alyson, poking at his chicken with a fork. Alyson tried to pay attention to her family's conversations, but they all bored her. She turned her attention to Rawkin, and nudged him in the side with her elbow.

"Rawkin?" She asked him, turning her gaze away from her family and towards him. Rawkin let go of his fork, letting it hit his plate with a clatter, and turned towards her, with a questioning look. He ran his hands through his jet black hair, and wiped off his face.

"Yes Alyson?" He replied wearily. She frowned, looking upon his facial expression.

"What is wrong? You look as though someone had just died." He smiled and nodded.

"I'm fine. I'm just not into this sort of thing you know? I was meant to go out there and fight, just like the rest of those soldiers that we see marching around our borders. I wasn't meant to work in a field, or feed the chickens or-"

"Please Rawkin we've gone over this conversation hundreds of times. I know you want to go out there, but that is not our place in society. We are needed here. If it weren't for us, the troops would most likely go hungry and starve to death while the enemy waits outside their castle walls!" Alyson said 'matter-o-factly'. Rawkin sighed.

"Doesn't mean that they should tax us as much as they do." Alyson sighed heavily and looked at him wearily.

"Honestly will you just let it go? Here, let me show you some of my books, I think they'll be more interesting than whatever they are talking about." Alyson stood up from her seat as her father made a joke, making the entire table erupt in laughter. Rawkin reluctantly stood up after her, and followed her to a corner of the room, next to a wooden bookshelf. "My father uses some of his earnings to buy these for me on my birthday." She explained.

"We are lucky to have such parents with beneficial jobs. Some days I wonder how the others-"Before Rawkin could finish his sentence; a loud knocking could be heard from the entrance of the house. Everyone stopped what they were doing and silently listened for another pound, just to make sure of its existence. _*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*_. Rolph stood up, and motioned for his wife and family to stay where they were seated.

When Rolph pulled open the door, a man wearing leather armor, and wielding a bow and quiver of arrows fell in, landing on his side. Rolph quickly closed the door, and knelt at his side, looking him over.

"Who is this person that disrupts our family occasion? Quickly, somebody get him out!" Rawkin's aunt shouted. Rolph continued his analysis of the newcomer, and noticed that his eyes were distant and he was shivering. After putting his hand to the man's forehead, he noticed how warm it was, and immediately realized that he was sick.

"Hold on a moment, it looks as though he is ill. Yda, come help me with him. Bring him to the basement and lay him down on our spare blankets and such. Make sure he has a lit candle for warmth. We shall not let this disturbance disrupt our wonderful occasion! Give us but a moment, and we shall return." Murmurs arose from the tables, but as soon as Yda and Rolph carried the man's body out of view, the family members turned back to their previous conversations.

Alyson had watched as her parents invited the unwanted guest into their household, and was deeply disturbed by it. 'What if this man was a murderer? A thief? A rapist? Who in their right mind would invite a total stranger into their house without even speaking to them first?' Alyson's mind flooded with questions and fear. Rawkin on the other hand seemed somewhat excited by this man's appearance.

"Wow, he looked like one of those manhunters! Or maybe he's a deserter?! Boy I bet he's got plenty of stories to tell. Wouldn't that be interesting Alyson?" Rawkin said turning his attention to Alyson. Alyson on the other hand had her face buried into a book, and looked uninterested in hearing the man's stories.

"Yes because a deserter such as he probably has great stories about how he ran away from his friends as they were probably slaughtered." She said sarcastically. Rawkin frowned at her response, and turned his body so he was facing her.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, unsure why she was upset. She immediately closed her book and turned towards him, so that they were both facing each other. Placing the book on her lap, she gave him a disappointed look.

"My mother and father just invited a total stranger into our house. That is unbelievably foolish! What if he turns out to be one of the sea raiders! Or a forest bandit, or a thief, or even a rapist!" Alyson went on, her voice now rising, but still under the raging laughter that arose from the main table. Apparently her uncle was telling the children mythical stories.

"Why must you be so snobby? You do know that there are some famous women warriors out there? Haven't you heard of Isolla of Suno?" Rawkin's father had told him about the claimants to the throne, such as Isolla of Suno, Lethwin Far-Seeker, and Arwa the Pearled One. However, in his defense, he had failed to realize that the woman he had mentioned was indeed a claimant, and not kindly looked upon in Calradia.

"And you wish for me to look at Isolla and Arwa as roam models? Such ignorant women are they. They are nothing but claimant's Rawkin, and nothing more." Alyson retorted, and began putting her book away. She wasn't in the mood to read anymore, and now that he had brought up the subject, it seemed as though their trip over here was fruitless. Rawkin sighed heavily.

"Why must you be such a bore?" Alyson suddenly stood up and stared down at him.

"I am not a bore, I am merely stating facts." And with that, she turned back towards the table, and marched off. Rawkin slouched on his wooden stool, and watched her go.

*1:00 AM at the Gaveston household* **(Not sure if that's accurate medieval time but you get the idea) **

Hours had passed since Rawkin and Alyson had discussed the newcomer's arrival, and the family members were beginning to disperse now that the storm had cleared up. Although the road was muddy, they didn't have to walk far, and those that did had brought their horses/wagons. The house had gotten much quieter, and the only noises now were the sounds of Alyson's mother sweeping the garbage off the floor, and the snoring of her little brother. Rolph was showing their last guests to the door.

Alyson walked up to Rawkin as he was leaving and smiled weakly.

"Sorry for how I acted before, it was unladylike." She smiled. Rawkin grinned back at her.

"Don't worry I am not offended. I will see you tomorrow hopefully?" She nodded. "Excellent. Goodnight!" Rolph closed the door after he left, and began making his way past the table and to the stairs. Alyson watched for a moment in silence, then decided to speak up.

"Father you aren't going down to see that man are you?" She asked him. He looked at her and chuckled.

"Why shouldn't I? He is our temporary guest and we should take care of him until he is better. Is there a problem?" Alyson stood silently before shaking her head. Rolph nodded and continued down the stairs. Alyson watched until his figure disappeared, and then went over to her mother to help her clean the dining room.

*In the Gaveston basement*

Kegan's eyes fluttered open as he regained consciousness. He quickly sat up and began looking around frantically to try and recall his surroundings. Before he could react, big, masculine hands gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back down to the animal pelt he was currently lying down on. His eyes darted around until they focused on a figure looming over him.

"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? What is your name?" The man asked him. Kegan closed his eyes and scrounged up his face. His head felt like it was on fire and he was sweating. As if the rain wasn't bad enough, now it seemed that he had a cold. This was not going well.

"Hernais…Hernais…."

"Your name…is Hernais?" The man said in a surprised tone. Kegan quickly shook his head and opened his eyes once more.

"N-no…..my name….my name is K-Kegan…."

"Easy son easy. You've caught yourself quite a cold. It'll probably clear up in a few days if the gods are kind to us. Let's just say if you had stayed out there in the cold rain for much longer you would've been worse off." The man chuckled as he explained Kegan's predicament. Kegan squirmed on the pelt, writhing and twisting. He was burning up! As his eyes darted around again he noticed a bucket of water nearby. He swung his arm outward, swiping at the bucket.

"Hold on there son, what are you doing?"

"Too…too hot…too hot…." Kegan repeated. The man sighed.

"Hold on a moment." The man grabbed a cloth from the bucket and dipped it into the water, soaking it. He then retracted his arm and laid the cloth on Kegan's forehead. Kegan relaxed as he felt the water dripping down his head, and neck. "There, better?" The man asked. Kegan nodded, and closed his eyes again.

"Thank you…" he said quietly. The man nodded.

"Ah don't mention it. But if you don't mind me asking….who are you?"

**Ok guys sorry that this isn't that long, but I've got lots of Chemistry homework and sports are taking up a lot of my time. I will try to update more often. I've still got plans for future chapters, and I've got them written down so they're not going anywhere. **


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